Page 67 of Choke Me, Darling (Lyres & Thieves #1)
I t’s been a long, draining day of classes and I’m more than ready to kick back and relax in the living room with Arius and Rhys. As I settle onto the couch, I can’t help but notice the tense atmosphere hanging between the two men. They’ve both seemed on edge all day, exchanging clipped remarks and brooding glares whenever our paths crossed on campus.
Not that either has deigned to enlighten me as to what’s got their knickers in such a twist. Classic bloke behaviour—bottling everything up until the inevitable explosion.
With an inward sigh, I lean back into the cushions and shoot them both sidelong glances. Rhys remains hunched over his laptop, brow furrowed in concentration as his fingers fly over the keys. Arius, on the other hand, sprawls in the nearby armchair with his arms crossed and a scowl etched onto those chiselled features.
Just another lovely evening of uncomfortable silence, it would seem.
The sudden rap of knuckles against the door punctures the strained quiet, making me start slightly. Arius and Rhys immediately trade weighted looks laden with unspoken meaning before I’ve even fully processed the interruption.
Rolling my eyes, I start to lever myself off the couch with a put-upon sigh. “I’ll just get that, shall I?” I mutter, already halfway across the room.
“No, let me.”
Arius is on his feet in a blink, large palm encircling my bicep with surprising gentleness given his towering stature. Halting me mid-stride, he pins me with an inscrutable look that I can’t quite decipher.
Frowning, I glance from him over to Rhys and back, brow furrowing slightly. “Why can’t I answer the bloody door?” I demand, voice edged with mounting exasperation. “It’s not like either of you wankers is—”
My words trail off as Arius simply brushes past me towards the door, broad shoulders set in an immovable line. With a huff, I cross my arms and watch as he grasps the handle, carefully easing it open a few scant inches.
And promptly gets bulldozed by the whirlwind blur that comes barrelling through the moment there’s enough space to squeeze inside.
“! There you are, I was starting to think you lot were ignoring me on purpose!”
The distinct rasp, simultaneously grating yet playful, can only belong to one person. Sure enough, Sid straightens from where she’s thrust past Arius, burgundy tresses tousled and cheeks flushed from her haphazard charge.
A bright grin instantly splits my features as I haul her into a fierce embrace, squeezing tight enough to make her grunt slightly. “You mad bastard, feels like I haven’t seen you in ages!” I can’t resist the teasing jab, giving Sid’s side a playful poke. “Did you finally pull your head out of whatever bloke’s arse it was crammed up this week?”
“Har har, making jokes about my perfectly healthy sex life as always.” Sid swats my hand away with a roll of her eyes, even as the grin refuses to fade from her lips. “That’s just hilarious coming from Miss ‘I’m Shacking Up With The Campus Wanker Patrol’ over here.”
“Oi, who’re you calling a wanker?” Arius grumbles, having finally regained enough composure to slam the door behind Sid’s abrupt intrusion. He leans one broad shoulder against the doorframe, pinning us both with a flat look that lacks any real heat or irritation.
“You, dipshit,” Sid fires back without missing a beat, snapping her teeth playfully in Arius’ direction. She doesn’t wait for him to mount a retort, simply whirling back towards me with a gleam in those mahogany eyes. “Anywhoooo, I got to missing my girl here, and figured I’d come on over to say hi. See how domestic bliss is treating you with the Triple Threat over there.”
One slim hand flits out, giving my hip a gentle squeeze that makes me wince involuntarily as fingertips dig into the still tender bruising beneath my shirt. Sid’s expression immediately falls, brows knitting together in a worried furrow as she takes a half-step closer.
“You alright there, babe?” she murmurs, casting a sideways look towards Arius and Rhys over my shoulder. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“Nah, I’m good, just a bit banged up is all,” I force out with what I hope is a reassuring smile. Before Sid can question me any further, I nod towards the living area with an overly bright expression. “C’mon, let’s have a seat and you can fill me in on all the wild shite I’m missing out on while being kept away from the masses. Nobody in those stupid classes they have me in ever wants to talk.”
Tugging Sid along by the wrist, I shoot Rhys a pointed look as we cross the room towards the sofa. Plopping down onto the cushions, I gesture for him to join the conversation even as he studiously avoids looking up from his laptop screen.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my favourite little computer gremlin,” Sid drawls, heaving an exaggerated sigh as she flops gracelessly onto the couch beside me. “Have you actually come up for air today, or have you just been hunched over that damn keyboard day in and day out?”
Rhys grunts a noncommital sound from the depths of his throat, dark head bobbing slightly in half-hearted acknowledgment before he returns to the rapid staccato of keystrokes. I can’t resist rolling my eyes at his typical obliviousness, even as Arius pushes off from the wall to meander over towards the liquor cabinet.
“Since you seem intent on inviting yourself over and inflicting your presence upon us,” he mutters, shooting Sid a sidelong glance over one shoulder, “I don’t suppose you’d care for a proper drink rather than making do with that cheap piss you usually swill?”
Sid immediately perks up at the offer, flashing Arius a cheeky grin. “Now you’re speaking my language, love,” she crows, leaning forward to prop her elbows on her knees. “Any chance you’ve got some of that good whisky stashed away? Could fuckin’ murder a few fingers’ worth after the shiteshow of a day I’ve had in classes.”
A scoff rumbles from Arius’ chest as he extracts a crystal tumbler and the requisite bottle of amber liquid. “I swear, you need to seek professional help about these alcoholic tendencies you flaunt so proudly,” he chides, carefully portioning out a couple ounces of the potent spirit.
“Fuck off and just gimme the damn drink, would you?” Sid fires back without missing a beat, holding out one palm expectantly.
Arius simply shakes his head and crosses the room to deposit the brimming glass in Sid’s outstretched grasp, an audible sigh of exasperation escaping him. Before he can retreat too far, however, she latches onto his wrist and levers herself upright with the stealth and agility of a jungle cat.
“Thanks, baby, I owe you one,” she purrs in a molten tone, tongue darting out to swipe across those full lips in a salacious gesture. Then, with a wink and a throaty chuckle, Sid settles back against the cushions and takes a long pull of her drink—practically preening under Arius’ flat look of disapproval.
Honestly, it’s like these two feed off each other’s intolerable antics at times, I can’t help musing with an inward shake of my head. If only they could channel that inexhaustible energy into more productive ends, we might just see world peace achieved inside of a week.
Reaching across the short distance between us, I pluck the tumbler from Sid’s grasp and take a hearty swig myself. The smoky liquid burns a scorching path down my gullet, but I can’t deny the soothing undercurrent that settles the frayed edges of my nerves.
“So,” I begin, carefully depositing the glass on the low table separating us from the lounge chairs, “anyone fancy regaling me with the juicy gossip I’ve been missing out on while under house arrest here in this den of inequity? Or are you lot just determined to remain moody gits all evening?”
Sid’s gasp cuts through the air like a knife, effectively shattering any lingering tension. All eyes swivel in her direction as she whips around to face me with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.
“Oh my god! You should’ve seen Hansley this morning, babe,” she blurts out, seemingly unable to contain the words any longer. “The old bat looked like someone had taken a piss in her morning cuppa and left a fresh turd bobbing in the bowl for her to find.”
I blink owlishly at Sid’s colourful assessment, brows inching upwards as I process the vibrant imagery. That certainly doesn’t sound like the unflappable Headmistress I’ve become all-too-familiar with over the past two months.
“Do tell,” I prompt when Sid pauses for breath, waving a hand in a beckoning gesture. “Clearly something’s got Her Royal Crankiness’ knickers properly twisted if she was storming about like a woman possessed.”
A wicked grin curls the corners of Sid’s mouth as she leans in conspiratorially. “I saw her absolutely reaming one of the professors a new arsehole out in the courtyard earlier,” she confides in a tone just south of a whisper, clearly relishing in the scandal. “The shrieking about ‘proper protocols’ could probably be heard all the way in the village, it was that bloody loud.”
The ensuing silence that descends is brittle enough to shatter at the slightest provocation. I can feel the weight of Arius and Rhys’ stares boring into the side of my skull like physical manifestations, laden with unspoken meaning. Slowly, I turn my head to meet their twin inscrutable expressions head-on, lips pressed into a grim line.
“Alright, one of you mugs had better start explaining what the fuck is going on,” I demand, voice low but leaving zero room for obfuscation or deflection. “Because this childish refusal to communicate has gotten severely old, and that was before Sid’s little tale of the Wicked Witch losing her marbles on school grounds.”
Rhys opens his mouth as if to reply, but Arius swiftly cuts him off with a sharp look and a terse shake of his head. “It’s nothing, ,” he states flatly, focusing those mercurial eyes on me with an intensity that’s damn-near scalding. “Just the usual bureaucratic nonsense and red tape Hansley gets her knickers in a twist over from time to time. You know how she is.”
The barely-perceptible twitch of Rhys’ mouth betrays his scepticism even before the derisive snort rumbles from his broad chest. “Oh just stop with this bullshite already, would you?” he snaps, whirling on Arius with a look of pure exasperation. “We’re well past the point of playing these obfuscating little mind-games about what’s really going on here.”
You could cut the tension with a butter knife as Rhys and Arius engage in a silent battle of wills, staring each other down across the space separating them. Sid shifts uneasily beside me on the sofa, one delicate brow arched as she glances between the two titans sizing each other up.
“So help me God, if you utter another fucking word—” Arius growls in a low, dangerous tone.
But Rhys simply barrels over his friend’s menacing tone, completely unfazed by the obvious threat as he turns back towards me with an inscrutable look. “We were meant to attend a mandatory meeting with Hansley this afternoon,” he states in a carefully neutral cadence. “One that Arius insisted we all skip out on for reasons he’s steadfastly refused to explain, other than thinly veiled implications of some vague ‘rebellion’ or other demented shite.”
Sid’s jaw drops open in an almost comical display of shock, head swivelling to pin Arius with an incredulous stare. “You’re having me on, right?” she scoffs out an uneasy chuckle. “There’s no way in bloody hell you lot just went and blew off that twisted harpy without—”
The words die on her lips as Arius slouches back in his armchair, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Every ounce of fight and fury seems to drain out of his towering frame until he simply looks… haggard. Weary in a way that transcends mere bone-deep fatigue and bleeds into the recesses of his very soul.
“We missed the meeting, yeah,” he confirms in a toneless rasp, refusing to meet any of our probing stares head-on as he admits the truth. “Hansley can rage and lose her fucking mind to her heart’s content for all I care. I’m done bending over to take her vindictive bullshite up the arse like a mindless drone in the hive.”
Sid pales visibly, her previous bravado fizzling out like a dying ember as the full weight of Arius’ quiet declaration sinks in. I can practically see the wheels spinning behind those hazel eyes, no doubt envisioning every potential fallout and repercussion barrelling down the pike towards us all.
“Please tell me you’re not daft enough to really think this is going to end well,” she whispers, a faint undercurrent of desperation tingeing the words. “Arius, the old bat will crucify you for such blatant insubordination. Hell, she’ll have the lot of you dragged out and bloody well shot if you push her too—”
“Try it, and I’ll rip her goddamn throat out with my bare fucking hands.”
The words slither forth on a menacing growl, every syllable clipped and dripping with venom potent enough to curdle fresh dairy. A muscle ticks spasmodically beneath Arius’ jaw, cording the tendons in that thick neck until the fine hairs along my forearms prickle to attention in primal warning.
Because that right there? That’s the snarl of a man pushed to the very precipice of his endurance. A feral beast backed into an inescapable corner with nothing left to lose, lashing out in pure self-preservation even as the walls close in from every angle.
And suddenly, despite the bravado Sid and I have always bandied back and forth without care, I’m struck by the very real possibility that I might not make it out of this madness. That this could all spiral so violently out of control, the end result might be something far more catastrophic than anyone bargained for.
Swallowing hard, I lick dry lips and muster what dregs of composure remain to pin Arius with an intent, unwavering look. “Okay, so you idiots skipped out on whatever fresh torment Hansley was cooking up,” I begin in a measured tone. “I’m guessing that decision wasn’t one you all just pulled out of thin air on some whim, though. There’s more to this little mutiny than wounded pride and bruised egos, isn’t there?”
For a protracted beat, the silence stretches taut and brittle between us all—charged with a maelstrom of roiling tension and unspoken implications. Then, finally, Arius exhales a shuddering sigh and lifts his gaze to meet mine. And what I see reflected in those fathomless depths makes my blood run colder than any Arctic glacier.
Because it’s not fury or defiance blazing there in that raging storm, nor is it simple self-preservation fuelling this calculated rebellion. No, the naked truth slowly dawning in Arius’ haunted stare is far more visceral and chilling.
It’s the expression of a man who’s peered behind the curtain obscuring some dark conspiracy… and now finds himself utterly repulsed by what he’s glimpsed lurking within those shadowed recesses.